


The Twist in Your Narrative

by fictionalthirst



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Shot, M/M, Pining, slightly mentioned Gladio/Prompto because I could
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalthirst/pseuds/fictionalthirst
Summary: Ignis has frequented a very off-the-beaten-path used bookshop for years, and it's not just because of the selection.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	The Twist in Your Narrative

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TurnipKeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurnipKeep/gifts).



> For my lovely girlfriend, who loves Ardyn probably much more than Ignis could ever possibly hope to.

Ignis was sixteen when he found the bookshop, _“The Curse of Wisdom”_ , tucked in the backstreets of Insomnia’s shopping district. It was nestled deep in a shadowed alley, far from the main thoroughfare where the rest of the shops resided, just down a short staircase off the cobblestones. The name pulled an appreciative chuckle from his chest, and though he did not go inside on the day he’d discovered it, he vowed to return when he was not pressed for time. Nor being pulled along by his friend and classmate, Gladiolus. Though they both shared a love for literature, this was clearly a shop meant for quiet and respectful perusal. Gladio could not be described as either of those things.

Once he had free time to indulge his curiosity, he was not disappointed. The shelves were well worn but stained to shine despite the numerous dings and scratches from years of use. They were full to bursting with used books of all colors and sizes, every one of them old and filled with knowledge beyond Ignis’s years. Plush chairs filled corners, and the shop seemed to stretch farther than the building could possibly contain it. The lighting was dim but not irritatingly so, and the scent of the innumerable pages were complimented by a softly burning incense.

It was as near as Ignis could imagine to a heaven, and he anticipated many days spent browsing the shelves, along with a much lighter wallet than he would normally allow.

Yet not even the contents of the shop could compare to the proprietor, a man of either his mid-twenties or early forties, Ignis could never tell. He was tall, broad, and very bronze for a man that spent his days shut up inside the low-lit business. His hair was the color of wine, and wild; it laid across his shoulders in wind-swept flips.

But worst was the winsome face that stopped Ignis’s heart once it turned toward him with a crooked grin and a warm intellect burning behind stormy night-sky eyes.

With difficulty, Ignis made the man’s acquaintance; Izunia, he called himself, and Ignis was never sure whether it was his given or family name. He was too afraid of appearing overly-familiar to ask for clarification.

It took many visits for Ignis to truly open up to the possibility of holding a casual and personal conversation with the charming man, but once he allowed himself to bend, his visits became more than just a passing fancy with the shop and it’s wealth of knowledge. Ignis had become well and truly obsessed with conversing with the owner, and winning a smile or a chuckle from his beautiful lips.

Of course, Ignis knew that given his tender age, he would sooner win the heart of the moon, but it did him no harm to yearn, he decided. There would be time to allow his craving to pass, and surely it would be sooner rather than later. Everyone knew that teenaged attractions were fleeting and fickle.

Yet at twenty and deep within his university years, Ignis still found himself inside _“The Curse of Wisdom”_ at least once a week, sharing a theory or a story with Izunia, his heart beating a staccato rhythm against his ribs when the man would turn up one side of his mouth and let his eyes linger on Ignis just a little longer than was necessarily polite or appropriate.

It was one such afternoon that Ignis departed the company of Gladiolus and his new flame - a sunny young man of a few years their junior - that he found himself at a loss when he turned up to the storefront and found the door locked tight.

He paused in front of the ornate handle, wondering if he should try again, with a firmer grip, or if he should simply accept that Izunia had shuttered the business for the day, despite his rather stringent opening and closing schedule. A schedule which had never once altered in the four years he had been frequenting the establishment.

Ignis began to worry. Though Izunia could be described as a man of flights of fancy, he could be counted on to a degree of reliability that Ignis prided in his own self. Surely if the shop was closed, either there was a dire need for it, or something possibly dreadful had happened to the owner.

Ignis imagined the worst scenarios, as he was wont to do in times of anxiety or broken routine. Possibly the shop had been burgled and Izunia left injured, the culprit locking the door behind him to give ample time to retreat. Or perhaps the owner had simply never woken up that morning, and the shop would soon be closed forevermore, leaving Ignis to wonder what exactly had become of the man he’d grown so fond of.

“Ah, Scientia, my good lad,” Izunia’s gentle timbre brushed against Ignis’s body like a sudden caress, startling him toward it. There, above him on the edge of the staircase, stood Izunia, his lips quirked in a grin that disarmed Ignis even more than usual. “I apologize if I gave you a turn. I was unfortunately summoned quite early this morning to assist a dear friend with a rather unfortunate bout of illness.”

“I hope that they are recovering,” Ignis said, politely. He was a bit taken aback, as over the years Izunia had never once mentioned anyone outside of the shop that was in his life. A tiny flicker of discomfort flitted through Ignis’s chest, wondering at the nature of the friendship. Even after all these years he still held a foolish hope that one day he might become bold enough to deepen the relationship between the bookseller and himself. It never once occurred to him that others in this world would find the man as attractive as Ignis did; a softly burning lamp, warmth in the darkness to the fluttering of his heart beating its paper-like wings against its cage.

“They shall, indeed,” Izunia smiled mildly down at him, and it made Ignis feel small despite their nearly matching heights. “I’m afraid she’s a bit of a dramatic when it comes to feeling under the weather. She barely had a fever when I arrived, and yet she could not bring herself to get out of bed to attend to her medicinal needs. I left her with all she requires to regain her strength until I can bring some sustenance to her in the evening. I simply could not leave the shop closed another moment.”

“I’ll admit that I was a bit surprised to see it,” Ignis nodded, stepping out of the way so that Izunia could unlock the door. “You have always been quite religious about your availability to the public,” Ignis shifted with embarrassment as Izunia looked up from his task to fix him with a curious glance. “From… what I’ve observed, that is. You’ve never once been closed when I’ve turned up.”

“Of course not,” Izunia said, opening the door a fraction, once the key was back in his pocket. “I never know when you will, and so I am forced to combat my rather flighty nature in order to secure your patronage.”

Ignis’s heart skipped, the older man’s words dousing him with a wave of icy water that froze him to the spot, yet somehow settled warmly in his belly. “I’m… sorry?”

Izunia opened the door wider, sweeping a hand forward to usher Ignis inside the still-darkened shop without a word.

Despite their long and gentle acquaintance, Ignis could not help but feel as though he was being led inside a predator’s den. Yet still his feet moved, as if the man’s gesture were the control bar to Ignis’s marionette strings.

The shop was lit only with a low lamp on the centrally-situated counter, near the cash register and the small displays of impulse items such as bookmarks, greeting cards and the odd selection of sweets. The foreign atmosphere in such a familiar and well-loved place shivered in Ignis’s limbs, the air of danger heightened when he heard the door shut behind them and the lock click back into place.

A hope burned deep within him, and fanned to full flame when Ardyn’s hands slipped gently over his shoulders, pulling the suddenly unsteady length of Ignis back against the older man’s sturdy height.

“I worried that with every passing moment, you had come to the shop, found it closed, and I would have to wait another week to see you once more,” Ardyn purred into his ear, and Ignis’s entire body joined its limbs, a tremble that threatened to collapse him against the man behind him. “It occurred to me, then, that even as I cared for a dear friend, all I could think of was you, Ignis.”

“Izunia,” Ignis arched into the man, the use of his given name just as foreign as the darkness of the shop. The familiarity, paired with the confession of his mutual attraction, burst like molten lava inside his quivering body, and Ignis wanted to groan aloud as Ardyn’s hands smoothed down to his hips to steady him.

“Call me Ardyn,” The shopkeeper demanded softly, his honeyed voice tickling at Ignis’s neck. “I’ll hear nothing else from your lips, my boy. Other patrons may know me so distantly, but never you, if you please.”

Ignis could only nod, the older man’s touch burning his skin with want. He wanted desperately to turn in the man’s arms and press against him from chest to groin, to let his lips be claimed and to confess his need to let Ardyn consume every atom of his being, but he was fixed in place by the enormity of the ache inside him.

“I must confess,” Ardyn began, once more speaking into Ignis’s ear as he nuzzled the light hair just behind it, “I’ve thought of you often, for many years now. At first, they were merely thoughts of using your body to my own ends, in many different ways.”

Ignis exhaled a ragged breath, no longer able to stand the pain of holding still, and reached behind himself to bury a hand in that tempting, lustrous hair that piqued his interest so many years ago. It was just as soft and thick as it looked, and the sound it pulled from the man behind him rumbled through his broad chest and into Ignis’s.

“Of course, your intelligence and dry humor buried itself inside my mind,” Ardyn continued, his hands beginning to wander, one cradling Ignis’s soft lower belly, the other journeying to Ignis’s chest, seeking out the rising bud of his nipple. “Next I dreamed of long afternoons lounging together and talking, before taking you gently into my arms and then simply _taking_ you.”

“Ardyn,” Ignis breathed, finally, arching into his touch with more conviction. “Please.”

“What do you ask of me, Ignis?” Ardyn begged, his hand finally finding the peak of his nipple through his perfectly pressed shirt, its twin slipping down to tease at Ignis’s inner thigh. “You only have to tell me, and I will give you whatever you desire.”

“You,” Ignis said, his silence finally truly broken. “Please, you are all I’ve wanted for years.”

“Then all that I am shall be yours,” Ardyn promised, and he turned Ignis in his grip to do just as Ignis had wanted himself; their chests and aching lengths colliding sweetly before the sharp blade of Ardyn’s mouth opened his own. The kiss was just as much supplicating as it was claiming, and Ignis groaned into it as Ardyn’s hands found his backside, a firm finger pressing between the cleft in a bold grip.

“I’m afraid that we won’t make it to my bed,” Ardyn said, his breathing labored with his want and efforts. “I hope that you aren’t too disappointed to be roughly taken against my counter.”

“It only makes sense,” Ignis chuckled, all of the tension bleeding out of him now that he knew that he was just as ardently wanted _back_. “I imagined it many times over the years.”

Ardyn only groaned at that, guiding them both the few feet to the aforementioned location and stooping to his knees to press his nose and mouth to the bulge of Ignis’s excitement. Ignis tried not to jerk against the sensation, but was mercifully held still by Ardyn’s strong hands.

“Tell me more, my Ignis,” Ardyn asked, his warm breath ghosting over Ignis’s already fevered loins. “Did you touch yourself to the thought?”

“Of course,” Ignis answered, “Too many times to count. You made quite the deviant of me.”

“One could only hope,” Ardyn smiled before mouthing the straining front of his trousers once more. “May I taste you?”

“Gods, please,” Ignis begged, and earned the release of his length from the prison of his slacks, his dark underwear much more forgiving but nonetheless still stifling.

“No need to invoke _them_ ,” Ardyn said, teasing at the wet spot of Ignis’s tip with a thumb. “Whatever you wish shall be fulfilled by myself, no divine intervention required.”

Making good on his promise, the older man eased away the final barrier keeping his mouth from Ignis’s insistent flesh as he guided the pulsing length of him through the front of his briefs. Without the restraint, his manhood stood at frantic attention, dripping urgently with desire for the man on his knees.

Ardyn smiled wolfishly at the drop beading there, and with the flat of his tongue, licked a hot stripe from Ignis’s frenum to the fissure. Ignis could barely keep himself vertical at the sight, and was glad of the wooden surface of the countertop digging into his lower back. His elbows bent to brace himself against it, to keep standing so that Ardyn could continue his work.

“You are soft as velvet, my dear boy,” Ardyn said, and the praise thrilled through Ignis. “I can only imagine what you’ll feel like _inside_.”

Ignis could not help but cry out at the thought, rising unbidden behind his eyes as Ardyn dipped his head to take his length inside the wet heat of his sinful mouth. After all these years, the expectation of this scenario could not match the reality, especially when Ignis had no basis for the sensation. It turned out that his ‘passing infatuation’ had become quite the barrier for any experiences beyond his own imagination and the desire for his passion to become a reality.

That his first experience could be with the man he’d yearned for over many years was miraculous.

Ardyn was quite passionate, himself, as he lovingly tended to Ignis’s arousal with the fervor of a man that had been equally distracted by the incessant thought of the action. Ignis could not stop himself from watching the work of Ardyn’s mouth, although it threatened to bring him to his crest far too soon to be polite or impressive. Watching the man’s lips part around his flesh and drag across the surface of his pulsing skin was hypnotic, and Ignis fiercely wished that he had the strength to stand on his own so that he might grip that burgundy mass of hair.

Suddenly, the older man twisted his devilish tongue around the crown of Ignis’s cock in some magical way, wringing a rough cry from him. The younger man nearly pushed his hips forward to bury himself in Ardyn’s throat, but thankfully the strong grip on his pelvis kept the sudden jerk from choking his paramour.

Pulling off with a wet suck, Ardyn pressed a gentle kiss to the tip and smirked up at Ignis before releasing the younger man’s hips from his vice-like fingers.

“I would love to bring you to your peak like this,” Ardyn’s roughened voice said with affection as he stood to his full height. “However, I have to admit that I am far too selfish. I simply must know you _completely_.”

“Yes,” Ignis said in a needy gasp. “Yes, please, Ardyn.”

“I must say, you beg so prettily, I am overjoyed to give you what you ask for,” The words were spoken against Ignis’s lips just before another claiming, burning kiss seared across them. With his turgid length trapped between them and unfortunately far too many layers removed from Ardyn’s own, Ignis began to whine into the battle of their mouths. It was all he could do to refrain from losing his carefully crafted composure and keep himself from ripping the smart but comfortable clothing from Ardyn’s generous frame.

The brush of stubble against his chin set him even more aflame, and Ignis was close to panting when finally the older man pulled away with another disarming grin.

“I shan’t keep you waiting any longer, my boy,” The older man groaned, rolling his hips against Ignis’s, telegraphing the impressive endowment hidden behind his trousers. “I fear that any longer and I might make a fool of myself once I’ve finally sunk within you.”

“Just that will be enough to satisfy my fantasies,” Ignis assured Ardyn, his hands splayed over each of the taller man’s firm pectorals. “Though I would ask that you show yourself to me.”

“Undress me, then, Ignis,” Ardyn said, his grin slipping and his gaze fixed firmly on Ignis’s face.

A shiver twisted down Ignis’s spine and he set to work, his fingers shaky as they moved to open the third button of his shirt, the rest of the garment provocatively undone to present a tantalizing view of his strongly defined clavicle. As more of Ardyn was revealed to him, Ignis’s legs trembled around the older man’s, who had moved to nestle his thighs firmly between the length of Ignis’s. The insistent pressure of the enormous cock aching to be freed made the younger man dizzy with excitement and anticipation.

The final button above the tucked length of the shirt popped free and revealed the shadowed topography of Ardyn’s toned abdomen, and Ignis instinctively wished to run his tongue along the ridges. He impatiently tugged the rest of the shirt from the band of the dark slacks and shoved his eager hands to the broad shoulders, easing the shirt free of his lover’s torso, baring him completely to his hungry gaze.

Ardyn was a vision of masculine perfection, hills and valleys of muscle, but not so defined as to become sharp and uninviting. His bronze skin stretched for miles over the wide frame of his chest, and the dark hair trailing from his navel down to the hidden juncture of his legs made for a lovely contrast. Ignis greedily dreamed of touching him all over, smoothing his hands across the lower edge of Ardyn’s rib cage and up to cup the swell of each of his pecs once more.

“May I?” Ardyn asked, and Ignis had become so distracted that he was uncertain of the man’s intentions until blunt fingers tilted his chin up and began undoing the button at his throat. Ardyn made swift work of his striped dress shirt, and groaned when he discovered that Ignis had been wearing a tight undershirt beneath it. “Do you mean to punish me, my dear? I wished to taste the constellations of your skin and yet you hide them from me.”

Ignis groaned, Ardyn’s clever words pooling in his stomach, the crux of his attraction not in the least dimmed by their carnal desires. “It’s indecorous to go without an undergarment.”

“You make it extremely tempting to rough you up, you proper thing,” Ardyn growled, surging against him, teeth scraping Ignis’s neck in a pinching grasp as the rough side of the older man’s cheek rubbed the sensitive edge of his jaw.

“Please,” Ignis begged, again, worrying that he had become a broken record, and that Ardyn would grow tired of his lack of wit. The overwhelming and unexpected fulfillment of all of his wishes had rendered Ignis an imbecile.

Ardyn did not seem to mind in the slightest, however, as his hands became more rough and urgent on Ignis’s body, pushing his undershirt up and over his chest so that the older man could stoop to mouth roughly at his nipples, one hand tugging the aching twin in a cruel pinch. Ignis could no longer control the wild cries threatening to escape him, and simply let them free, which seemed to spur his lover on even more.

“I’m afraid we must move on before I’ve lost all control,” The older man said, pulling away from Ignis’s chest with a growl that straddled the edge of frustration and determination. “I assure you that next time I will take you to my bed and worship you properly. But for now, if I don’t prepare you, I’m afraid that we’ll both expire far too quickly.”

Ignis nodded, his hands finding the band of Ardyn’s pants and swiftly easing the fly open, delving hotly inside the parted fabric to grip the impressive swell of his cock. It was unimaginably thick and warm, and Ignis was desperate to have it split him open and claim him.

“And you wish to make a fool of me, do you?” Ardyn gasped with a laugh, his own hand tightly grasping Ignis’s wrist and removing the offending hand from his trousers. “I’ve only just explained that I am on a knife’s edge. Do you want me to spend within you, or not, my dear?”

Rather than answer, as his tongue felt too thick in his mouth, Ignis rose the few inches needed to plant his lips roughly and inexpertly on Ardyn’s. The older man groaned and gathered Ignis into his arms, the kiss biting and ardent.

“I see that I must take you from behind if we are to make any progress, you tempter,” With determination, Ardyn spun Ignis to face the countertop before pulling his bottoms down hastily and angling his slim hips out for better access, forcing him to press his chest to the surface. “My hand lotion, can you reach it? Next to the register.”

“Yes,” Ignis breathed, not quite sure if it was the truth. Luckily, with little need to stretch, he grabbed the small bottle and passed it backwards to Ardyn’s waiting hands.

“Goodness, you are a vision,” Ardyn praised him, the man’s rough, broad hands smoothing apart his backside. “The sight of my manhood breaching you might just send me off to the afterlife.”

“Ardyn,” Ignis said, in lieu of another banal ‘please’. It held the same sentiment, but with the added intimacy that uttering one’s lover’s name brings.

“Ignis,” Ardyn answered in kind, and then there was a finger - or possibly two, he could not tell with how worked up he had become - pushing carefully inside. Controlled, despite Ardyn’s obvious urgent need. It warmed more than Ignis’s belly to think of the care the older man was taking despite his own needs. “You are tight, dearheart. Do you have reservations?”

“No!” Ignis barked, picking his head up from the cradle of his own arms. “No, no, please, Ardyn, continue-”

“If you insist,” Ardyn answered, and Ignis felt himself stretched by another digit. A long, embarrassing moan escaped him, but the answering hitch of Ardyn’s breath swept away the shame of his wanton outburst. The firm but gentle manipulation of the tight ring of his entrance relaxed his stance, and suddenly the brush of a finger against _something_ inside him pulled a gasp from between his lips. “Ah, there you are. Let’s tease that spot a few more times, shall I? Get you nice and loose for me.”

Ignis felt tears springing to his eyes every time Ardyn massaged his target, and within moments the older man was humming with praise and teasing a thumb along the soft skin between Ignis’s groin and his opening. Quivering and aching to beg for more, Ignis writhed with the overwhelming touch, trying to subtly ask for Ardyn to finally _take him_.

“Yes, I think that will do nicely,” Ardyn finally commented, as if reading his mind, and Ignis exhaled with relief.

It was then that he realized he had yet to get a visual of the appendage that would soon be lodged within him. The first press of the blunt head drew an involuntary breath of surprise from Ignis’s lungs, and he was suddenly aware that he was about to be filled to the very brim with _Ardyn_ , the man he’d always thought too far away to reach.

“Ah,” Ardyn exclaimed softly, the bulb pushed past the pucker of Ignis’s entrance, a prelude to the slow infiltration of the older man’s enormous essence. Another slow, shallow roll of the larger man’s hips and Ignis felt sundered, both physically and mentally. He gripped the edge of the counter with frantic fingers, needing a way to ground himself in the moment, to stop the temptation to smooth a hand over his painfully engorged member and bring himself to climax.

A backstroke brought the length out of him to the tip, and Ignis mourned the loss of stretch. It quickly returned and widened as more of Ardyn filled him further, working himself slowly to achieve maximum penetration with minimal discomfort for Ignis.

Ignis choked off a groan as Ardyn stilled for a moment, allowing the slighter man’s body to accommodate his girth. The younger man wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle the entirety of his lover’s manhood, with how deeply and immensely it had already claimed him.

“Are you well?” Ardyn asked, and Ignis could only nod, his voice stolen by his concentration, and he prayed it would be enough to keep the older man from withdrawing. Rough palms soothed his sides, brushing north underneath his now certainly wrinkled dress shirt to urge Ignis off the counter, to allow access to his chest and a firm tug on both of his nipples. The change in angle brough the weight of Ardyn’s cock down onto that spot again, and Ignis gasped, involuntarily driving himself further down the shaft buried within him. “Slowly, slowly, my dear.”

“I can’t,” Ignis cried out, ashamed of the weakness of his impatience.

Ardyn shushed him gently, once again soothing him with his warm hands. Later, Ignis would replay the encounter and marvel at the man’s self control, but in the moment, the younger man could only concentrate on the desire for _more_ and _movement_.

It took two more backstrokes to finally get Ardyn seated fully inside him, and Ignis sighed with relief, knowing that once the larger man was confident that Ignis could take him, he would begin to thrust, and they would be closer than ever to completion.

“I do hope you’ll forgive me for being rather speechless, now,” Ardyn said, far too eloquently for his claim. “But being within you is quite closer to ecstasy than even I could have imagined. Am I pleasing to you, as well, Ignis?”

“Yes,” He breathed, holding back from babbling the word over and over and looking like a witless wretch. “Please, Ardyn, please move.”

“As you ask,” Ardyn answered, and then blissfully rolled his hips experimentally. It was less of a thrust than Ignis wanted, but it drove him deeper somehow, and had the desired effect of dragging the thickness of him over that sensitive spot again.

“More,” Ignis pleaded, and was rewarded with a sharper surge from Ardyn’s hips. “Harder.”

“Yes, Ignis,” Ardyn purred, pulling the slim man up off the counter and against his chest, urging his face to turn enough to attempt an awkward kiss. “Tell me what to do. Command me, I am yours.”

“F-fuck me, Ardyn,” Ignis tried, shivering. “Hard. Deep.”

Not quite able to get the proper angle with both of them standing, Ardyn eased Ignis back down to bend over the counter, gripping him with one hand on a bony hip and one on a muscled shoulder. With a firm hold on both, he drew out, again to the tip, and slammed back inside with a shove that forced a guttural scream from Ignis’s throat.

With abandon, Ardyn rode him for several minutes that way, unbothered by Ignis’s loud shouting. Whether the authorities would come to investigate any complaints by the neighbors, Ignis could not predict, but he could also not stop himself from vocalizing so fervently. The surge of Ardyn’s silk-covered steel flesh eliminated all of Ignis’s reason, control and shame.

“May I come inside you?” Ardyn asked, his words shaky and almost breathless.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Ignis chanted, and then the heat of Ardyn’s palm encircled his cock, stroking him in time with the thrusts of Ardyn’s hips, and Ignis was _coming_ -

It was almost too in sync with the larger man’s climax, the white-out rush nearly blocking the hot flood of Ardyn’s orgasm from Ignis’s senses. Luckily, he came back into his body quickly enough to hear the rough shout of completion and feel the burst of fluid coating his insides as Ardyn collapsed atop him.

It took several more minutes for control of his limbs to return, but that was _wonderfully_ in agreement with Ardyn’s own rebounding faculties, and they righted themselves together.

Ardyn looked fondly down at Ignis and pressed several soft, adoring kisses across his lips before joining their mouths more intimately, groaning in pleasure.

“Let us pull our clothes back together a bit and we can retire to my apartment upstairs,” The larger man offered, looking every bit the disheveled demon with his pants around his thighs and his refracting cock covered in his own spend. “I’ve made a bit of a mess of us, so we could partake in a soak in my tub if you are so inclined.”

“What of opening the shop?” Ignis asked, tempted by the offer, but ever the pragmatist.

“I needn’t bother with that now,” Ardyn chuckled. “I hardly ever have customers besides you, and the rest of that lot can busy themselves elsewhere for the afternoon.”

“Surely that isn’t your idea of a responsible business practice,” Ignis smiled.

“It is of no concern,” Ardyn shrugged. “I own the building, and I’m a benevolent landlord. I’ll give myself a little leeway on the overdue rent.”

Ignis laughed, then - a breathy, quiet thing, but the result was a beaming grin from Ardyn in return, which was almost as much a reward as the realization of his long-time fantasy.

**Author's Note:**

> <3 <3 <3


End file.
